


The Same Page

by CircleUp



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Trafficking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 15:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20623046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircleUp/pseuds/CircleUp
Summary: A snapshot of Natasha and Clint on an undercover mission.





	The Same Page

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadukiam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadukiam/gifts).

Natasha cleans up beautifully.

Clint knows that. It's not the first mission he's been on with her that required them to wear formal wear, but he's still stunned every time. His lips curve into a smile as he pushes himself up from where he'd been sprawled out on the room's single queen bed.

"Whatever you're about to say," she cuts him off, "instead, can it. Save it for an audience at least."

He laughs, found out. "Aren't you going to straighten my tie?"

"Straighten your own damn tie." She does though, fingers quick. He left the knot loose on purpose and they both know it. "You look good," she says, critical. She pulls back and puts a hand out expectantly for his arm, which he offers.

She's eye-candy tonight. She doesn't actually hate that. Some of the other agents do, some of the other women. It's not a role often relegated to the men, being someone's accessory. No roles call for a musclehead hanging off the purse-strings of a female agent, that's for sure, but Natasha honestly doesn't mind. If she did it regularly, maybe, but it's nice to have the change of pace of having someone else deal with the nitty gritties while she gets to be complimented and eat absurdly expensive hors d'oeuvres.

Natasha is beautiful, and is fine using that. It's an asset.

Natasha has never wanted to be anything but what she is.

They walk in together. The cover isn't complicated, no reason for it to be. Clint is a businessman and Natasha is his escort. She'd laughed at that, but _wife_ seemed too cliche, too obvious. They both agreed. The key to a good cover sometimes wasn't going generic. People who stood out in one place drew attention away from someplace else.

Besides, it fit the setting.

She plucks up a bite of something she doesn't pay much attention to, cucumber-and-salmon something, and it's awful. She feeds the remainder of it to Clint, the semi-circle she didn't eat, and of course he loves it. He has either no taste or no taste buds. Natasha rolls her eyes and listens to the drone of voices.

It's a nice party. They aren't even here to collect information, the point is just to be seen so they can be recognized in the future. No one in these circles trusts strangers, even with something as innocuous as small talk. The point is for Clint to rub elbows and work his way into an inner circle long enough for Natasha to do the rest of the job. The point is to eat some food and talk.

Natasha is bored.

"This is boring," she complains, because it's in character to do so. She bats her eyelashes at Clint, simpering, an expensive call girl still wanting more. "Buy me a drink?"

"I think it's an open bar," Clint laughs. He's talking with Mr. Hasn't Dipped His Toe Into Child Trafficking But Might Be Open To The Idea; and his good friend, Has Two Children In His Basement, At Least. SHIELD's only involved because the ring has dipped into mutants specifically, which according to them is a dangerous slope. You could make the argument that SHIELD should have gotten involved well before that, and Nathsha has, but organizations can only spread themselves so thin before the bottom falls out.

Blinders on. You learn how to compromise real quick, even when you're ostensibly on The Good Team.

"Fine," she pouts, releasing his arm, but Open To Trafficking stops her before she can get away.

"Gin, up, love." He waves his empty glass at her and she's horribly affronted by it, plucks it out of his fingers with a smile and a little kiss that promises more, and comes back with his drink and her own champagne. His is sans spit. She turns it over with a wink and goes back to Clint's arm.

"I don't think he's actually involved yet," Clint says much later, back in the room as Natasha is taking off her make-up in front of a cracked mirror. She stopped smiling the moment they were in the car and driving away. None of it was Clint's fault, but Natasha doesn't feel charitable to anyone right now, and he knows that and so far has kept his distance. She appreciates that, how he can read a room. How he can read her. "But I got you a present anyway."

It's the business card of Two Children In His Basement. Natasha studies it in the mirror from where he's holding it up. She dabs her face with a towel and says, "We can't," and Clint says, "Well, _I_ can't," and flicks it so it lands on her side of the bed. Her pillow.

They're sharing a bed. Not like that. Eyes are everywhere though. You don't break cover just because you're a few miles away and indoors.

"You sure?" She says, eyeing where the card landed. She hasn't turned away from the mirror. "You might have to actually hire a real escort. Laura'll love that."

"She's got the patience of a saint."

"You don't deserve her," Nat agrees and finally faces him. She's thoughtful. "What'll you say?"

"Who cares?" Clint shrugs, sitting down. "What's he gonna do, fire you? You could use the vacation."

Nat smiles and picks up the card, reads the name off the top. _Leon Woods_.

She can't wait to meet him.


End file.
